Edward's Big Adventure

Kylie and I have been the proud parents of two hamsters since last summer. They have lived together but apart, side by side in their matching cages, idly running on their annoying little wheels and snacking on sunflower seeds for the duration of their time with us. We even gave them matching names, Edward and Bella. (I should not have to explain that one.) Since we are not allowed to have a dog in our new house, the hamsters will have to suffice. I'm honestly shocked that they have lived this long.

On Thanksgiving, my parents came down, and my mom brought her dog, Roxie, for a visit. Kylie stashed the hamsters in her room to prevent Roxie from wanting an afternoon snack. Our Thanksgiving was cut somewhat short by the fact that I had to be at work at 1 AM for the Black Friday madness; therefore, I had to find a way to sleep the afternoon away so that I could function on the sales floor the following day. Instead of a twelve hour shift, I had to pull a 22 hour day when one of my assistants didn't show. I came home at almost midnight on Friday night. I was exhausted beyond words, but so thankful to finally be at home.

Being the responsible pet owner that I am, I immediately went to Kylie's room to bring the hamsters out to their designated spot on the table in our hallway so that I could feed them. Bella was eagerly awaiting her breakfast, but imagine my shock when I discovered the door to Edward's cage open without a hamster in sight. I must have stood there for a few seconds with a zillion thoughts racing through my mind. Omigosh, there is a hamster loose in my house. What if I step on him? What if he croaks in that pile of laundry that has been on my floor for weeks? I would have to burn all of my clothes. What am I going to say to Kylie? At this time, it had been over 24 hours since his cage has been left opened, so there was absolutely no telling where he could be. That thought did not stop me from digging through the pine chips in his cage. Then I searched underneath Kylie's bed with a flashlight. I found a rotten apple, a half-eaten poptart, and some of my office supplies that had miraculously vanished when we moved in, but no hamster.

I was so exhausted from being awake for over 24 hours that the loss of my hamster felt like the end of the world. I was weepy as I searched the entire house for him, calling his name as though he were a puppy that would come running out to me. Hell no, he knew that if he was found, he was going to spend the rest of his life running around in that little green cage. Edward had gotten a taste of freedom, and I think he liked it. When he failed to turn up, I felt like the biggest failure of a parent on the planet, although I had lectured Kylie a million times to make sure that the cage doors were completely secure. Just before I fell into bed, I left a little bowl of hamster food on the floor in the hallway, hoping that he would find it and leave my laundry alone. I also was imagining all of the damage that hamsters could cause to my house, causing me to rationalize to my landlord that hamsters do not, in fact, count as those pets that I'm not allowed to have.

The following afternoon, I came home from work to find that Edward's food had been scattered on the floor. I was ecstatic to know that he was still alive. So I took it one step further and added a box with pine chips and his hamster wheel to the floor. I imagined finding his nestled in the corner of the box the next day or hearing him run on the wheel in the middle of the night. It didn't happen. A couple more days passed, and I had resigned myself to the idea that Edward was not coming back. How long can a hamster on the lamb survive in the wild jungle that was my house?

Yesterday morning, my alarm went off at 7 AM. As I was laying in bed, deciding if I wanted to get up and look presentable for work or if I could pull off a ten-minute shower/hair fix, I heard something. Scratch, scratch, scratch.... It was coming from under my bed. I held my breath for a second, and then I heard it again. Scratch, scratch, scratch... Edward was alive, and he was in my room! I grabbed the flashlight that I had been using previously to look for him, and I shined it under my bed. I saw nothing, so I made my way to the other side of the bed which was closer to the wall. That's when I saw the little supply of hamster food, scattered beneath my nightstand. This is also the place that I throw all of my tall winter boots on the floor (since I have no closet space). Instantly, I knew that Edward was in one of those boots. I picked each one up, one at a time, and gently shook them out. When I reached the last one, sure enough, Edward slid out of it and plopped on the floor. He looked just as surprised to be there as I was to find him. Before he could bolt away, I scooped him up and ran to Kylie's room, where I awakened her with the news that her furry little friend had been rescued. I was so excited that he was back that I didn't even mind having to shake the hamster poop out of my boot, too.

Now, normalcy has resumed in my household. I no longer have to worry about walking through my house at night, terrifed that I will step on a wayward hamster. I am overwhelmed with relief.

My laundry, however, is still on the floor. I really have no reason to pick it up now that Edward has been located.

The World of Carrie

I have to get out of this habit of only writing once or twice a month. I have so much to say, but only a limited number of hours to get it all out. I prefer to simply yell at people. It's much faster than typing.

Things in the world of Carrie:

• My number one goal is surviving the remaining three weeks of the semester. This includes finishing the research paper that I was assigned in August, but haven't started yet. I checked out a ton of books from the library, and they're all overdue, but I haven't read any of them. I am so screwed.
• The holidays....ugh, anyone who has ever worked in retail during the holidays ooooooor anyone who has ever attempted to shop in a retail location during the holidays should feel sorry for me. Well, not really. Because I'm super awesome, and I'm ready to make Black Friday my bitch.
• Planning Thanksgiving with my family is a challenge. Because my extended family is in Michigan, the dinner at Grandma's isn't really an option for us. My parents are going to come down to my place for Thanksgiving brunch, as we have decided that I won't really be able to eat much at a real Thanksgiving dinner. (No turkey, no tofurkey...) Because I have to be at work at 1 AM Friday, I decided to stay up all night Wednesday so that I can catch some zzzzzz's on Thursday afternoon before I have to go in. I will probably fall asleep in my mom's hashbrown casserole.
  
• I took Kylie to see a urologist last week because of her recurring UTIs. She was a pretty sick little munch a couple of weeks ago. She has to have an ultrasound as well as another procedure that involves a catheter. I'm not really sure how to explain this entire thing to her. I had to deal with the whole catheter thing after surgery, and it was not pleasant. She's only eight. I don't understand why she and I have such problems with pee...
• I have decided that my only option for dating is to find a younger man with mommy issues. I keep trying to go out with guys who are older than me, but what I have realized is that they are someone else's discards. That is certainly not what I'm in the market for. If all else fails, maybe he'll have a killer sex drive. I need to make up for all of the nookie I didn't get in my twenties.
  
• Kylie and I have a "Breaking Dawn" date on Tuesday after she gets out of school. I'm torn between deciding if taking her makes me a cool mom or a bad mom. She has watched all three of the first Twilight movies, and she wasn't freaked out in the least. I can't believe I turned out to be one of those crazed Twilight fanatics. I was so anti-vampire/werewolf crap until I had to watch the first movie for my Humanities class a couple of years ago. Then I was hooked. And for the record, I have always been Team Edward.
  

That's all I've got right now. I should have been sleeping about three hours ago....

Hello?

"Hello, hello. Is anybody listening? Let go, 'cause everyone lets go of me. Oh, oh, won't somebody show me that I'm not alone, not alone?" --Kelly Clarkson, Hello

At this moment in my life, I feel as though I am standing in the middle of a crowded room, screaming, and no one is paying any attention. I don't think that I have ever felt more alone. It is incredibly discouraging. Some days, I think that I have mastered the art of keeping it all together, making it appear as though I know what I am doing. But the majority of the time, I am surprised when I make it through the day without collapsing in a fit of tears. It's a difficult existence. I think that my challenge is that I can't figure out what really matters anymore. I'm fumbling around, attempting to find my place in this crap-tastic, effed up world, and I'm not succeeding at all. I'm going through the motions, but nothing is hitting the bullseye. I can't find my niche. I am beginning to think that I simply do not have a niche.

Kylie and I spent the last week in Michigan with my extended family. It was so nice to take a break from my frustrations, but it was also incredibly hard to march back into my life and remember what I had left behind. This juggling act is too much to handle, and I have recently had too many moments where I just wanted to give it all up and run away. If it weren't for Kylie, I would have disappeared a long time ago. I no longer want to deal with Rat Bastard and his nonchalant attitude about caring for our daughter. I no longer want to fight with the courts about their failure to enforce his child support payments. I no longer want to worry about whether he is going to switch up his weekend visitation and leave me hanging on a day that I have to work. In a sense, I am tired of being the only responsible parent.

I visited another urologist today, this guy being a specialist at Wake Forest Baptist Hospital (i.e. very good). This appointment was far less traumatizing than the last one, but the anxiety leading up to it was just as harrowing. I was the only person in the waiting room who was not a retiree. I spent two hours discussing everything that I have told no less than ten other doctors over the past five years. This time, however, I finally got the official diagnosis I have been waiting for. I'm sure that somewhere on my medical chart, someone has written "Hot Mess." It's a much shorter version than the three disorders that were named today. I now have the pleasure of spending a small fortune on prescriptions each month, in addition to following the diet that has tortured me for two months now. What really sucks is when people ask me why I have to eat such weird, limited things. I just don't really feel like explaining it all. There is nothing sexy about bladder problems; when I mention it, I imagine that people think I just randomly pee on myself. Grief. I have enough trouble scoring a date as it is.

On an up note, here are some highlights from my vacation. It was colder than the Arctic in Michigan, but it was absolutely beautiful. I think that I need to make visiting in the fall an annual event. Even though it was too cold to lounge on the beach of Lake Michigan, it was still awesome. And we got to wear cute earmuffs....always a perk.

I took my dad to see our favorite college football team (Michigan Wolverines) play their Homecoming game. The day could not have been better (minus the eight hour round trip drive to get to the bottom of the state). I spent a small fortune on tickets, but they were the perfect seats, and we had a blast.

Then, of course, there was Halloween. Kylie and I threw our costumes together at the last minute, deciding to go as matching witches. I think that I was pleasantly surprised at how close of a resemblance I shared with the Wicked Witch of the West once I threw on the green face paint. Perhaps I should wear it more often.

Most importantly, I had the chance to spend some time with my grandparents on each side of the family. There is never enough time, and I always wish that I lived closer. I feel like I have missed out on a lot because I am so far away, and I feel guilty for not being there to take care of them the way I would like. When I left my Grandma's on Tuesday afternoon to drive back to NC, I cried all the way to the bottom of Michigan. It's so hard to let go.

Next time we go up, I'm skipping driving. I don't care how much airline tickets are; I can't spend fifteen hours in a car ever again. Or, if the airlines are extremely ridiculous in their pricing (as usual), I will simply fly to Michigan on my broomstick. It seems to be a far more fitting alternative.